Chaotic Curiosity

Crushing meeting

Évrat's POV, NSFW

With a roar, he placed the empty mug in front of him, while his drinking companion already fainted next to him. Smiling bright, he takes the victory with a dizz and lets himself slump half over his armored arm. Unlike his tough little friend, he couldn't just find the sleep in his seat. A tap on his shoulder made him raise his head, looking to the belonging hand.
        "Sir, Athanatos of Àthee... Lieutenant Qingsley is awaiting you, for a premeeting."
        "Seriously? It's well past midnight, what does he want? "
        "He wants your company in discussing and... Reforming plans."
With his left brow rising up his forehead, Évrart calls Ludwig off with a swipe of his hand. He was way too drunk to find any fitting words for a discussion, especially about the current war. A fast sobering exercise was required. His gaze flew over his own man and some others in the inn. A slim boy in an offset corner made him stop for a moment. Recalling a couple of hours back when the beauty of harp was playing, Évrart remembered how Lazarus laughed at the poor guy. He can't tell to have ever met him. So it was worth a shot.
A water-filled mug got placed into his hands, as he made his way to the stranger, their nose almost touching the pages of the book in front of them, they didn't seem like from here. The glasses reflected the candlelight next to them.
He made a hold in front of them and the big present was enough for the stranger to look up. Shock flew over their face. Évrart almost opened his mouth, but the bookworm made their escape quickly.
         "Weirdo" he mumbles, watching them as they leave for another corner, not starring back at the commander. Instead, the unpleasant guy was watching somebody else. Évrart followed the glance and there he was. A tiefling, swinging his tail from left to right, apparently bored from all the drunken people.
Évrart invited himself next to the tiefling, smiling half cornered.
          "Still on for more, after losing the first round?" he joked and got easily into the conversation. It was hard for him to notice how much he was ranting. Almost a one-sided conversation, roughly about the most asked questions: his heritage. Only after two shots, he noticed the ranting of his side.
          "How about you tell me something about you. Oh, I know. You could tell my brothers little secrets, he's not willing to admit-"
Blackness.
My mind started to twist and the inn's music fated with our breathes and blood rushing in the ears. I've bent the tiefling over the desk, kicking away the ripped pants which were for no more use. Planting my ominous sword against him, I repeated.
        "Don't keep quiet, you hear me?"
        "Yes..." he replied followed by a gasping moan as I've thrust it into him. For long minutes we stood there, banging my hip against his ass, as his horns were slowly buckling a hole into the wall. Like a goat. Devil's work.
I pulled myself out of him, grabbing him by the thin arm. I was done withstanding, so I shoved him headfirst onto the accurately sized bed.
Blackness.
His moans became louder, as I was violently moving against him.
         "Your brother... Was so much better" I heard, clawing my hand into his cheeks, moving even fast. My nose wrinkled, my jaw was crunching. The hatred grew more and more, but I decided to reach down to his own little rapier.
         "You actually care?" the blue devil moaned.
No, I thought. This isn't for your pleasure. If I had the right tools, I would've chained you up against the wall, moaning for hours as I would've worked out my arms at your little, probably sweet thing by non-stop rubbing.
I shoved him down by placing my free hand on his bony but bruised back. Then it hit me.

Years back, an arena filled with applauding and bloodthirsty audience. Among them my father, I was standing by his side. A blue tiefling was rushing from corner to corner, flipping over walls and escaping the beast in chase of him. My father said something. But I can't recall.

Once more pulling out my flesh of him, I lift his leg to the side, facing him by leaning over his thin body. The silver eyes sparkled, as I moved myself gently into him. There was no reason for the gentle touch. I turned back to my normal behavior, less extreme, but still fitting for me. So far I have finished once, still not willing to let go of his warmth.
His moans became more intense, even louder. Not regular for someone to be that loud at the end but at the same time keeping quiet the whole ride. A couple of more pushes and my second round was over. Blood pounding in my head, I lift myself from him.

Évrart clothed himself and looked down at the blueish demon in his bed. The golden rings and horn. Silver eyes, blue skin. Unmistakable.
The maps were lying openly on his desk, ready to be taken.
With a slight of suspicion, he asked about the price, leaving the exact amount and taking his personal bag. He must think of new pathways and discuss them at the meeting. Traitors were amongst them.

As he left the room, giving a quick command to the soldiers, he got a little tip about a brown-haired man, sitting in various corners with a book but never turning the page. Évrart didn't hesitate, as he knew that presence already. Heavingly with his steps, he approached the stranger once more. This time freezing him into place.
        "What's your name, stranger?" he kept quiet. What is up with the people not talking?
        "I am not repeating my question, boy," he growls, making the guy in front of him visibly shake.
        "Tholy Wheylin." he peeped.
Évrart moved his hand to Tholys chin only to cause a further reaction. Tholy jumps up into a standing position, revealing his actual height. Both of their eyes meet but no word was parting them.
Eventually, Wheylin left for a room, making Évrart turn to the exit.
          "Tholy... The name doesn't fit him." he scratches under his breath, eventually escaping into the late night.